


how a moment lasts forever

by behzaintfunny



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dysfunctional Family, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Supernatural Elements, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, because come on it's the shelbys, but god bless him he tries, it's still happier than the tags make it be, typical tommy shelby behaviors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:21:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23841424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/behzaintfunny/pseuds/behzaintfunny
Summary: It's the anniversary of Grace's death.
Relationships: Grace Burgess/Tommy Shelby, Tommy Shelby & Charlie Shelby
Comments: 11
Kudos: 40
Collections: Peaky Blinders Prompt Fest - Spring 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [PBPromptFestSpring2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/PBPromptFestSpring2020) collection. 



It's a cold morning, despite the warmth of the fireplace engulfing the entire room, when Charlie wakes up because of the wallowing of bells somewhere far in the distance.

Something to do with the church, he figures, or perhaps it's Sunday and people are getting ready for their morning prayers. Still, the ringing reached even him, even here, surrounded by the stone walls of his castle. He doesn't like being woken up early, does Charlie. He finds it particularly enjoyable to dream, to let the deepest fantasies of his mind wander free, for it's in dreams like such that they are all merry, and together.

Charlie is a big boy these days, surely, so he doesn't cry after he wakes up alone.

It's been a long time since he slept beside daddy in his bed, anyway, so it wouldn't make any sense for him to do so, he thinks. Still, when he notices his toy bear has fallen onto the floor, the blue satin ribbon glimmering with the first rays of sunlight, he feels a lone tear falling down his cheek. He bites the sob down quickly and surrounds himself snugly with his blankets, where such premature sadness cannot reach him, because he is a Shelby, his father tells him.

In truth, he doesn't know why it matters so much to daddy or uncle Arthur whether he's a Shelby or not, and what that even means. Still, Charlie doesn't sob, because big boys don't cry, and because he doesn't want one of the maids to rush into his room so soon because she overheard him waking up.

See, mommy's watching him from the desk, and Charlie doesn't want no maid or nurse to interrupt mommy.

She does that often, his mommy, watching him in his sleep and making sure the bad dreams don't reach him there. Charlie loves her for it, really, he does, but sometimes he wishes mommy would simply let him have the nightmares, if only it meant she'd protect daddy from them instead.

"Morning, mommy." he whispers, as quietly as humanly possible, nose sticking out of the blankets covering his little body, "Today is your day, you see? Daddy is going to take me outside and we're going to do fun things together, because daddy's always sad when it's your day, and I don't want him to be."

Mommy smiles at him, gentle as ever, though her expression doesn't ever change regardless of what Charlie tells her, happy or sad - she is always smiling.

He used to run up to his room a lot whenever daddy or one of the bad men started yelling, lock the door behind himself like daddy tells him to, and sit beside mommy for just a few moments. He'd cry then, most of the time, because even big boys have to cry sometimes, and she would comfort him even at his worst with that gentle, loving smile. Charlie thinks mommy must have been a very happy woman, it seems, for it is in most photos and paintings of her that they have kept that she smiles, even if only slightly.

He wonders whether daddy used to make mommy smile often.

He makes Charlie smile when he's feeling down, he does, but it's never for long that they laugh or smile together. Charlie wishes it weren't so, but daddy has responsibilities, most of which Charlie doesn't know about or understand, but he wants to be helpful. He doesn't want to give daddy another reason to be sad.

So he shifts in bed instead, does our Charlie, before resolutely deciding that the sunshine peeking through the sheer curtains is downright annoying, and he wants daddy to give him morning cuddles, anyway. It seems to be early enough that perhaps daddy hasn't even woken up yet, he hopes.

He picks up the bear from where it lay on the floor, because the bear must crave cuddles, too. Maybe they don't cuddle often, but when they do, Charlie loves when his daddy holds him in his arms. It makes him feel less lonely, after daddy is gone for a longer while. He doesn't like when the maids cuddle him, because they don't ever think to cuddle the bear, too, and daddy would never forget about the bear.

He is a little cold though, so he figures it's not the worst idea to instead wrap one of the blankets around him, the way daddy always wears his coats, though Charlie knows from experience his blanket is for sure softer than any of daddy's coats. His feet are a little cold, too, but Charlie doesn't really know where his socks are kept, and he doesn't want the maids to hear him rummaging through drawers upon drawers.

"Bye bye, mommy." he tells her quietly, letting one of his hands rest on mommy's face, though the photo is a little high for him to reach properly, "I'm going to go take care of daddy now, but we will both come to see you later. I love you."

Charlie feels his mother's eyes on him still as he reluctantly reaches the door of his room, bear clutched in the other hand.

Everyone in the house appears to be asleep or doing something away from here, at least on this floor. Most of the rooms are permanently empty anyway, as though they're constantly waiting for guests, but it's been a while since they last had any guests over. It is a real shame though, because Charlie wishes daddy could invite aunt Ada more often, so she'd bring her son, Karl, for Charlie to play with. Aunt Ada is a lot of fun to play with, too, but the adults don't really want to play with Charlie now that he's not such a little baby anymore.

Charlie closes the door behind him with utmost care, making sure that it wouldn't make any unexpected, loud noises.

Once completely sure he is alone on the corridor, he walks towards daddy's bedroom with little quiet steps that deem entirely mute as silenced by the carpet. Charlie never did like this carpet, for it feels dull underneath his feet and not fuzzy like the carpet in his room does, but he's wholly thankful for it now, if only today.

The door to his parents' bedroom has always seemed a little large to Charlie, dark and looming above him, especially when Charlie couldn't yet walk. He wonders what it must be like for daddy and the others to always see the world from so high up, like Charlie does whenever he's riding his pony. Must be a little intimidating still, he thinks, to live in a house so grand and big, even for a man like his daddy.

He considers knocking on the door, for one moment, because daddy always tells him it's polite to knock before entering, but everything around him is perfectly still and silent, which gives Charlie the courage to enter without notice, instead.

The door doesn't give way as easily as Charlie's does, he finds, but it isn't long before he can peep into the bedroom, closed as it always is, though sunny itself much like Charlie's.

Reluctantly, he whispers, "Daddy?"

No one answers him. The room is perfectly empty save for some pillows and many astray articles of clothing, but the bed is still impeccably tidy, as though nobody had slept in it in days. It worries Charlie, because daddy has been home for days, and Charlie would have for sure noticed his absence, or had been told about it. Besides, daddy would never leave on mommy's day.

Charlie sighs, feeling a little heavy and defeated. He really did want to wake daddy up, because daddy's always really nice when he's groggy and sleepy, and Charlie loves sleeping in daddy's bed, he does, but it's not like he's ever allowed to, nowadays.

He gives his toy a little shake before closing the door quietly, "Come on, bear. Let's find daddy."

Someone's chuckling at the other end of the corridor, warm and so very utterly familiar.

Charlie turns to look, but no one is there.

If only a little resigned, he chooses to ignore it for the time being. The thing is, the house is _really_ big, not only for him but for the adults, too, so he hopes and prays daddy will be in one of the rooms Charlie could possibly find him in. God forbid he's outdoors, either, because Charlie is nowhere near dressed enough for such wild ventures.

Even if, he can't be hiding forever. If his search fails, then Charlie will just go eat breakfast, or something, perhaps a little disappointed, but it will have been daddy's loss, anyway.

When Charlie walks by the staircase, he has half a mind to crouch or something, just in case there's someone from the kitchen staff scurrying about downstairs, but he doesn't really want his blanket to get dirty, so he decides to risk it. He feels a little bold as he crosses the stairs with his back straight, clad in his blanket and toy in hand, and so he fights very hard to keep a laugh from falling out of his lips.

Once out of sight, Charlie considers his options for the briefest stolen moment.

He watches all the doors he doesn't really recognize, and quickly decides that he doesn't quite want to get to know them, either. He makes a little plan in his head, wishing he could tell it to his bear instead, of that he'll try daddy's office first, and then the dining hall. Though, he really hopes daddy isn't having breakfast right now, all alone and without Charlie. He doesn't really see daddy eat often, anyway, but he does like it when they have toasties together sometimes.

Charlie gets on his tippy toes before the study, for he feels the doorknob is even higher than the others were. Once his hand reaches the target, he realizes the door might be locked, for it often is, and the thought fills him with sudden dread.

As though on purpose, to ease his worries, the door opens easily before him, like slicing a knife through warm butter.

The room doesn't smell nice, not like others do. Everything smells of cigarettes, as it always does around daddy, which Charlie got used to, but he finds he doesn't like the other smell in the room - though he cannot quite wrap his finger around it, it's unpleasant in its harshness.

Daddy's there, because of course he is, asleep in the chair he was sitting in, with his legs opened and terrible grey bags under his eyes. Charlie bites his lip and clutches his little bear, because he doesn't like it when daddy looks like this. He's much too vulnerable for Charlie's liking, mind someplace far away from this place. It's easy for the monsters to hurt him when he's like this, too, for Charlie knows they haunt his daddy sometimes, though he tries to conceal it from Charlie and not let it worry him.

He does, though. Worry. Because his daddy is the only person in the world he's got.

Charlie doesn't bother closing the door this time, and his legs start to wobble when he begins to worry whether his daddy truly is asleep, or if something bad had happened. His feet make a beeline towards the desk, not secretive or cautious in the slightest anymore, before he finally beats little fists at daddy's leg.

"Daddy!" he calls, still a little quietly out of fear for anyone noticing he has been walking around the house alone, but the touch on daddy's thigh is insistent enough, "Please wake up."

Daddy stirs then, with a low groan, swiping his hand accross his face hastily. Though he's very happy to see his daddy awake, Charlie doesn't like that daddy is so tired, exhausted, even, for it means the monsters have got to him again.

Charlie wishes daddy would have just let him sleep with him, for they would surely never dare hurt his daddy when Charlie is there to protect him, but his daddy is always stubborn like this.

"Charlie?" his daddy mumbles, one eye opening slowly to look at his beaming boy.

"It's the day, daddy! We go see mommy today!"

He tries to miss the way his daddy tenses at his words, he really does, but it's very hard to do so when he's so close and one of his hands lies on his leg. With ever-patient eyes, he watches his daddy crack his neck, clearly not pleased with the questionable comfort of the sleeping situation he has found himself in, before downing the remnants of whatever it is in his glass in one swift movement.

"Alright, baby, calm down. Come 'ere." daddy tells him, reaching towards him with grabby hands before pulling him up into his lap, eliciting a little laugh from him, "Here's a good boy. Well, first things first, you need to have your breakfast, eh? Get all the strength you need for the day, _then_ we can talk."

"Don't want to," Charlie whines, snuggling closer to his daddy's chest and delighting in how he hears daddy chuckle, "We want cuddles."

Charlie promptly sticks the toy bear inbetween him and daddy, though daddy grunts a little when he does. Charlie tries his hardest to reach around daddy to give him a hug, but it's too hard like this for him, still.

Daddy can, though, and he does curl his arms around Charlie, making him feel nice, snug and safe, "Fine, I guess we can have some cuddles. But then you go ahead and have your breakfast, alright? No takebacks."

Charlie pouts, "I go with you!"

Daddy sighs into Charlie's hair before nuzzling into it, causing Charlie to giggle yet again.

"Come on, Charlie. 'm not hungry." daddy tells him, "You can go, I'll just meet you when you've finished, eh?"

Charlie doesn't feel like gracing daddy with one of his smiles, so instead he hides the pout on his face against daddy's white shirt, "I'm not going anywhere. Not unless you carry me!"

"Well, you brought your blanket, so do I carry you back to bed, or what? That what you want?"

"No!" Charlie tells him, not at all pleased with the way his daddy laughs at his little tantrum, "We go eat breakfast, like you said, and then we visit the ponies."

"You've got a real plan then, eh?" daddy asks, raising his thighs from the seat to give Charlie a little bounce, then another, successfully stealing the pout off of his face and replacing it with a smile, "Fine by me, we can go to the ponies. Now off you go, baby, daddy needs a smoke."

Charlie wouldn't have asked otherwise, because he knows daddy loves the horses and the ponies, much like he loves Charlie, and spending time with them. If they didn't visit, the horses would be terribly lonely, and Charlie doesn't want that for them, so he always asks daddy to take him to the stables and keep them company. 

Getting off daddy's lap, or out of his embrace for that matter, is nowhere near what Charlie wants right now, which he enunciates by purposefully snuggling even closer to daddy's tummy.

Instead, he asks quietly, "Daddy, have you been sleeping?"

Charlie cannot see his daddy's eyes from where he's seated, or the expression on his face, but he can see and hear his jaw do a little click, as it does whenever he's feeling tense. All of that seems to go away soon enough though, as brings a cigarette up to his lips and caresses it along his gums briefly before lighting it up.

"Yeah, yeah, 'course I have." he tells Charlie, with a little sigh as he throws his head back, "Don't you worry about me, mister. Let me do the worrying, eh?"

They both know that was never going to be the case.

They remain in his office in companionable silence, cherishing precious moments, Charlie with his face pressed into his daddy's chest as he finishes off a cigarette, then yet another. The atmosphere of this day is terrible, as it always is, but it's just a little easier to bear like this.

He hopes and prays it's the same for his daddy, too, but he knows better than to ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I'll admit to being a little fookin stuck with the ending of this fic, while 90% of the rest is done, and what better cure to writer's block than feedback! So if you'd be so kind as to comment, chances are I will love you forever.


	2. Chapter 2

It's an unspoken tradition of sorts that on this day, of all the days in the calendar, Tommy Shelby and his only son do whatever the son wishes.

Still, his daddy doesn't cause miracles to happen, so not all of Charlie's most fervent wishes deem to come true. Riding one of his horses, for instance, is a seemingly easy task to achieve, but not so easy to persuade his daddy to agree so. There are of course the few precious instances when they do get to ride the big horses together, with daddy making sure Charlie wouldn't fall off or cause his horse any distress, going as fast as Charlie wished for, but these haven't been happening so often these days. Charlie holds onto those memories as ferociously as he can, but it just isn't the same.

Charlie is surely old enough to ride the big horses himself now, he keeps telling his daddy, but alas, it is the ponies that they are inevitably headed towards.

It wasn't as cold outside anymore, at least, though daddy still insisted that Charlie wear his mittens and may only take them off when they reach the stables. He didn't really enjoy that, did Charlie, as that meant he couldn't hold his daddy's hand while walking, but daddy always puts his hands in his pockets, anyway.

At least it wasn't a long way to the stables.

"Did you have a pony when you were a boy, daddy? Like me?"

His daddy laughs at that, raspy and brisk as it may be, before opening the door to the stables, "No, I'm afraid I didn't. You're a lucky boy, Charlie, you know that? I could've only dreamed of having a pony like yours back when I was your age."

Normally, Charlie runs to his pony as soon as the door has been opened, but today he looks up at daddy instead, with the slightest confusion befalling his face. Charlie can't really see the blue of his daddy's eyes underneath the shadow of his cap, but he's smiling, and Charlie always likes it when his daddy smiles, because it means they are going to have a good day together, like he promised mommy they would.

Charlie frowns, one hand pulling at his daddy's coat, "So what did you do? I'm bored when I don't have my pony."

His daddy shrugs before motioning for them to walk towards the pony, Charlie's definite favourite, "Wrecked havoc, I suppose."

"What's that mean?"

But daddy shakes his head, clicking his tongue when they reach Charlie's pony, and takes its brush in hand to take care of the mane, long and beautiful, "Nevermind."

The pony they were headed towards is a mare of particular beauty, somewhat outerwordly, Charlie thinks. That was part the reason why she became his favourite in the first place, though in truth they've only had her for a few months, but Charlie believes this is such an example of a bond between man and his horse that his daddy always talks about.

Or a boy and his pony, in this case. That doesn't make Charlie love her any less.

She's beautiful from the prominence of her legs up to the soft hairs covering her back, in broad streaks of black like the midnight sky, interwoven by lighter hairs that remind Charlie of the stars. The brush goes easily through her mane, for she must have already been taken care of earlier in the morning, but leave it to Charlie's daddy to always make sure the horses aren't lacking anything at all.

Charlie looks at him with big, incredulous eyes, for it's always like this with his daddy - whenever they do get to the stables, the horses take up _all_ of his attention. Charlie is much like his dad in that manner, sure, but that doesn't stop him from yet again tugging at his daddy's black coat impatiently.

"I want!"

"Okay, okay, up you go." daddy tells him before picking him up, so much so that Charlie ends up slightly higher than him, which he always loves, "You think you can take over from here? Sure, go on, be my guest. You take care of her alright."

Charlie doesn't think it's very fair that his daddy can pick him up whenever he wishes, but he cannot pick his daddy up. A half-hearted pout befalls his face as he reaches for the brush his daddy seems to deliberately be keeping away from him.

"Give me!" Charlie whines, but his daddy only looks at him with a raised eyebrow, the barest hint of a smile forming steadily on his face, "…Please?"

He relents eventually, and Charlie jumps eagerly at the chance of brushing his pony's mane himself, as thoroughly as he can muster, only ocassionally stealing glances at his daddy.

He has been a very careful student, really, everyone tells him, and so he knows everything that has ought to be done to make his pony healthy and happy. Though it does take him a little longer than it would his daddy, perhaps, but there are no audible complaints as of yet, so Charlie figures daddy can't be that mad about having to carry him everywhere around the pony.

"I brush you next!" he exclaims, already making way towards his daddy's hair before he makes an expertly dodge, much to Charlie's dismay.

"Are you, now? Does my _mane_ require your assistance?"

Carefully, Charlie manages to run his brush through the sides of his daddy's hair, short as it may be, "Yes, it does! Aunt Ada always tells me you need help keeping your hair neat."

"Huh. Is that so?" his daddy asks, enduring Charlie's incessant brushing with the patience of a saint, the familiar glimmer of amusement very clear in his eyes, "Alright, mister smarty pants over here, why don't you try cutting your own hair for a change, and making it look semi-presentable, eh? …Actually, please don't, okay? Forget I ever said that."

Charlie laughs at that, though his brush drops to the floor prematurely as the pony makes a displeased sound, which he can only describe as requiring attention. His daddy seems more inclined to act on it than Charlie does, for he drops him to his feet immediately before reaching for the pony's feeble rein.

"Shall we take her for a ride then?"

Charlie couldn't have nodded more vigorously even if he tried.

It's an understatement, of course, for Charlie knows full well that Thomas Shelby wouldn't ever be found taking a horse for a ride without first thoroughly checking its hooves. They have people for it, surely, but perhaps old habits really do die hard. Charlie doesn't really know why his daddy is the way he is, but he finds it endearing, still, that he wouldn't want his pony to ever be uncomfortable or in any sort of pain.

"Wouldn't you prefer a more fair pony instead?" he asks him, hastily taking off his cap and placing it in Charlie's safe hands, "Black's a little sad, isn't it?"

Charlie toys with his daddy's peaky cap like it's his most precious posession, and maybe it is, a little, since daddy never goes without it. It makes his hair look funny, anyway, all crumpled up and messy when he takes it off.

"No, I like my pony! She's just like your horse." Charlie tells him, raising his voice a little in fear of his daddy being too preoccupied and not hearing him, "Like Dangerous!"

His daddy looks at him with somewhat of a displeased frown before nodding, "Yeah, I suppose you're right. Why d'you always gotta be right anyway, eh?"

"I dunno." Charlie giggles before taking off his own cap in favour of daddy's bigger one, which lays a little funny on his own head but it's all worth it, if only for the shadow of a smile on his daddy's face, "Guess it's 'cause I'm a Shelby?"

It's a half-hearted guess at best, but it makes his daddy crack an unexpected laugh nonetheless, to Charlie's delight.

"Fair enough," there's still the memory of laughter in his daddy's voice as he speaks, standing upright before snatching his cap abruptly from Charlie's head, "Little thief."

Charlie giggles so hard he finds that when he opens his eyes, he has to catch up with his daddy, for he and the pony are already out in the meadows, breathing in the remnants of fresh morning air. The grass bounces underneath his feet, making Charlie wish he were barefoot instead, to feel its silky soft touch on the soles of his feet. Still, it is but a simple wish, for as much as he can guess his daddy wouldn't mind, he can't say the same about the staff and anyone else that could judge him.

Being proper is boring, Charlie thinks.

As if on cue, something within Charlie's head appears to click, for he looks up at his daddy with somewhat of an incredulous smile, a lone hand caressing the pony's side, strong taut muscles underneath his open palm.

"No saddle today?"

"Yup. Think you can handle it?"

The look Charlie gives him can only be described as a most fervent yes.

His daddy's hands are on his sides momentarily, raising him onto the pony's back effortlessly. The world looks a little funny from up there, as it often tends to, with the grass so far under him and his daddy's face somewhat parallel to his.

Charlie adjusts the peaky cap on his head before instinctively holding onto the pony's mane. He enjoys how the hair feels underneath his fingertips, pleasantly soft with just the slightest edge of coarseness to it, a little like his daddy's hair whenever Charlie gets to ruffle it properly.

Charlie's hair is nothing like that.

Dirty blonde, a mix between his mother and father's in tone, but nothing like his daddy's in texture. Though it's hardly curly anymore the older he gets, he finds he likes how it resembles his mommy on the pictures they kept, if only slightly. There are times Charlie wishes he saw less of the Shelby characteristics in his face and the way he presents himself, and more of that gentleness that seeps from his mother's portraits.

Then, there are times, of course, when remembering is just about the hardest thing there can be. He doesn't like much to dwell in those emotions, does Charlie, but they come to him regardless like the most unwanted, incesstant guests. He supposes the very same thing bothers his daddy, but he doesn't feel as though he should ask, or if it truly is a thing to be dealing with alone.

"We go now?" Charlie asks instead on dwelling on his thoughts, with a slight impatient tinge in his voice as he holds onto the rein, right next to his daddy's hand.

His daddy chuckles, a lone arm sneaking behind Charlie's back to hold him snug, "Not so soon, Charlie. Riding bareback's not just all fun and games. Well, it _is_ , but only once you learn how to do it properly. Don't want you sliding off right away, eh?"

Charlie wants to convince him very badly that no such thing would ever happen, but he cannot find the courage in his heart to do so, instead resigning to silence.

He tenses up instinctively, if only for lack of knowledge what to do or how to act in such a situation. He's ridden his pony a number of times, surely, and plenty others, but never without the saddle, and though the opportunity excites him immensely, seeing the sparks of pride dancing in his father's eyes, Charlie finds himself on the brink of anxiety.

"Easy, now." his daddy tells him, a lone hand caressing the pony's mane, "Relax, Charlie. You don't want to make her feel threatened around you. Tighten those heels, but keep those thighs nice and relaxed for her."

His thighs loosen up on accord, and it does seem as though the pony feels somewhat happier with this, though in truth it's his daddy that knows most of the schematics, and not Charlie.

"I'm right here with you, okay? I've got the rein in me hand beside yours, see, so there's no reason to worry. She's not gonna go anywhere we don't want her to." his daddy tells him, as though he can truly read right through him, which Charlie finds just a little unnerving but much more so reassuring.

He always had a way with words, his daddy. No wonder he managed to charm his mommy so, and everyone around him. They all either fall to his feet or walk beside him, one way or another.

"We're gonna walk forward, alright? You hold onto that rein nice and tight, and we'll just go slow and steady." Charlie hears him say, before the essence of the world succumbs to trying very hard not to lose his balance and fall off the pony.

They're not going fast; in truth, it's hardly even scary. Charlie has seen many a scarier thing in his short life, some more than others, and though the pony's enthusiasm in her walk is evident as day, Charlie finds it easy enough to ignore, instead determined to simply trust his father.

If he couldn't do that, what then? The thought is just unpleasant as it is unrealistic, and so when one of Charlie's hands falls to sit on top his daddy's beside his, there's no evident protest coming his way.

"You had to do this too, before you learned to ride horses?" Charlie asks with the slightest tinge of disbelief, finding it impossibly hard to imagine his daddy as a child himself.

"Yeah, 'course I did. I wasn't a good student, I'll tell you that much." his daddy tells him, continuing to walk the pony forward, "You learn the little things, and a quick learner, you are, and you'll be trotting in no time. Gonna become a better rider than me, I'm sure of that."

"Really?" Charlie looks at him with big eyes, finding no signs of dishonesty on his face, and delighting in it sheepishly.

The hand securely wound around Charlie's back reaches up to steal his cap and ruffle his hair, if only for the briefest moment. He feels like he wants to squeal, to say something, but when he looks at his daddy's face, he sees a smile so rare he's apprehensive to let it end too quickly.

In relative silence, they walk towards the lush green forest.

Charlie wishes aunt Ada was here to see him, or uncle Arthur, for he cannot help but imagine how proud they would be to see him follow steadily in his father's footsteps. He likes the breeze as it flows through his hair, though they aren't going nearly as fast for it to be exhilerating and fun like he wants it to be, but it makes him feel unexplainably happy nonetheless.

Maybe he understands his daddy's love for horses just a little more, and how they can alleviate even the worst troubles. Though he never was a nature person himself, much more content with everything they can have indoors, he feels giddy with how the wind bites at his cheeks, and how his pony is being nice and gentle with him.

Charlie leans forward to press a small kiss to the back of his pony's mane, stumbling in the process. In hindsight, it may not have been the smartest choice, for he inevitably loses his balance and finds himself in his daddy's arms yet again, as they catch him before he manages to fall.

With just the smallest pout, he tells his daddy, "I love my pony."

His daddy's hand falls to the pony's side, patting it gently, in his own way of showing affection.

"Careful now, we're gonna make a little turn, yeah?" he tells Charlie before leading the pony to his right, in a small half circle so that they may instead walk towards the sunlight, "You're doing real good, Charlie. Feeling okay?"

"Yeah!" he exclaims, letting a toothy grin break onto his face in hopes his daddy would follow suit and do the same, "Are you?"

His daddy's brow furrows, but it comes back to normal in a matter of seconds, as though the sudden change was never even there, "Yeah, yeah, 'm good. Just gonna walk a little faster, okay?"

The change in pace is slight, but Charlie appreciates it. The sun is glimmering in his eyes just so, but it's easy enough to get used to, as he finds himself staring with utmost attention at his pony's beautiful mane.

"You and mommy used to ride horses together?"

"Not really, baby." his daddy explains, caressing the pony's side reverently as they strive ever forward, "I lived in Birmingham then still, see, with my family. Didn't really have many horses back then, only the few, and she never really cared much for them, anyway."

Charlie frowns, "What'd you do then?"

He falls silent for a moment, his expression contemplative. In truth, Charlie doesn't really care what the answer is, he just wants to hear it for whatever it is.

"We'd dance, I guess." daddy says, his free hand readjusting the cap where it lay on his head, "Yeah, we danced quite a bit."

"I wanna dance too!" Charlie says, face lighting up with a smile, "Daddy, _please_ , dance wi' me!"

His daddy purses his lips at that, likely subconsciously, as oftentimes he does whenever another craving for a cigarette comes. Charlie looks at him expectantly, twisting one of its pony's hairs around his finger in anticipation.

"You're a little shorter than your ma though, aren't you?" his daddy teases before motioning for the pony to halt with a practised click of his tongue, "Alright, come 'ere. I suppose a little good-old dancing wouldn't kill you, right?"

He brings Charlie up into his arms before he can even speak, going in circles to some imaginary song that isn't even playing. Charlie laughs, unable to stop himself from doing so, because his daddy looks blissfully silly doing so, even though Charlie isn't that small anymore and surely lifting him has ought to be somewhat of a chore, but not to his daddy, it isn't.

It's not really dancing, Charlie knows, but perhaps it's more than he could have even wished for.

"I call you Tommy now!"

His daddy looks at him with a little frown then, and Charlie cannot help but giggle at it. He falls into another full laughing fit as daddy throws him up into the air and back into his arms with practised ease, doing another fully-fledged pirouette before stopping to take a shaky breath.

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

Charlie pouts, desperately trying to figure out the answer himself, as his daddy holds him a little closer to himself to instead rock them gently, in slower movements, like he would back when Charlie was a baby. He's not anymore, though, he keeps telling him, but Charlie secretly likes the way it makes him feel whenever daddy treats him like he's still his little boy.

He boops his nose instead of thinking on it too much, for good measure, delighting in the way his daddy's face scrunches in sudden surprise.

"Well, mommy called you Tommy," Charlie says like it's the most obvious thing in the world, though his daddy's eyebrows only seem to furrow more, "And I wanna be like my mommy!"

"That's not exactly fair, eh?" his daddy tells him, and then more quietly, if only a little hesitantly, "You're already just like her."

Charlie smiles into the embrace, but his daddy's not smiling anymore.

They're spinning still, in slow and gentle movements, but it lacks the happiness it possessed just moments ago. Charlie wants to laugh but the noise dies down at the back of his throat when he curls up against his daddy's chest and feels him trembling, likely subconsciously, though they never indeed stop the dance. He hugs him tighter and fights the urge to tell him it'll all be okay, for he's always been told it's never good to lie.

The soft rays of afternoon sunshine fall onto their faces, and it feels, in a way, like a kiss.

"Can we go see mommy now?" he asks instead, though a little more quietly, watching his father's eyelashes flutter in a moment of consideration.

"If that's what you want." his daddy tells him, brisk as it may be, but there is an honesty to the way he looks at him, such that Charlie wants to hold onto and never let go.

Then there is commotion, and a woman runs their way. Their dance stops abruptly, and his daddy holds Charlie closer to his chest before reassuring himself that it is, in fact, only one of their maids scurrying with a message.

"Mr Shelby? There's been a phone call for you." the maid says, still a little breathless, as though she had ran all the way up to here, which is hardly the most surprising thing Charlie can think of, "From London. Says it's urgent."

Charlie's eyebrows furrow with confusion, but something within his daddy seems to click, for he settles Charlie down on his feet almost immediately.

When he looks up at him, Charlie cannot help but notice the anger as it shines within his daddy's eyes, and he almost, _almost_ wants to ask him not to go. Before he can so much as act, his daddy kneels beside him and takes his face into his hands, calming in their broad expanse even though they are undeniably shaking, just a little.

"You stay with the maids, Charlie, eh? Be good, make sure your pony's brought back to the stables, then go and eat your dinner." his daddy tells him, and there is a slight frantic edge to his voice Charlie cannot miss, not when he's looking him right in the eye from so very up close, "I'll just see you later, okay?"

Charlie shakes his head, however hard it may be when daddy's holding it so, "But daddy, you said we go see mommy now--"

"Later, baby, later." he tells him, and his leg is already twitching like he craves to get up and go, but all Charlie wants is to hold onto those hands and make them stay, "It's just something daddy's gotta deal with, alright? Now, go on, be a good boy, and I promise you we will visit the grave together as soon as we can, eh?"

Charlie wants to say something, he really does, but his daddy is already springing up onto his feet before he can even so much as think. His pony makes a displeased noise behind him, as though she, too, is upset to see him go so soon and so eagerly.

Together, they watch his daddy's retreating back as he runs, and runs, and _runs_ , until they can watch him no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends, sorry for the wait! Hope you enjoyed the light-hearted stuff! I can't promise there'll be much more of that towards the end of the story. As always, comments are a writer's best friend, and if you'd like to reach me, I am cozycillian on tumblr.


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